


love talk

by malbokdiet



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malbokdiet/pseuds/malbokdiet
Summary: Jisung chortles again, still staring intensely at whatever he’s drawing on Hyunjin’s hand. “No, you wanna know the real secret to learning any language quickly?” Finally, he pulls his pen away with a flourish, then taps Hyunjin’s palm with his finger. “You learn the dirty words first.”-Hyunjin learns English from his fellow members.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Hwang Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin/Kim Seungmin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	1. touch me

**Author's Note:**

> i hate that this is my first published skz fic,

Jisung enters their dorm like the proverbial bull in the china shop. He seems to make every noise he possibly can as he ambles into the living room, limbs colliding against corners and muted melodies spilling past his lips.

For once, Hyunjin doesn’t mind the distraction.

“Oh, no,” says Jisung, frowning at Hyunjin’s hunched over stance. “You look like you’re thinking. That’s not good for anyone.”

Hyunjin scrunches his nose in faux annoyance and flings a pen in Jisung’s direction. Jisung shrieks as he ducks his head belatedly, the pen flying past his shoulder. “Leave me alone,” Hyunjin says with an exaggerated huff. “I’m busy.”

Still, he can’t ignore the nib of relief that swells in his chest when Jisung ignores him and stays in the living room. The other members are either out for schedules or enjoying the rare day off — and Hyunjin, absolute masochist that he must be, decided to use this free time to study English. For three goddamn hours. He’s starting to see past participle verbs on his eyelids every time he blinks.

“Only boring people are busy,” Jisung replies absentmindedly, crouching down to retrieve the pen Hyunjin had thrown at him.

Hyunjin doesn’t really understand the aphorism — not at all, actually — but based on the dull, steady thrumming of ennui he’s felt for the past three hours, he thinks Jisung might have a point.

But Hyunjin doesn’t say that. “You’re so full of shit,” he replies, laughing.

Jisung sticks his tongue out. He takes a seat beside Hyunjin on the carpet, mirroring his cross-legged posture. “What’re you even doing?” he asks, genuine curiosity twining around the edge of his voice.

“English,” he answers, tapping the textbook splayed out in front of him.

“ _Wow_ ,” Jisung says in a distinctly Australian accent. He fidgets with the pen in his hands, repeatedly uncapping and recapping it. “It’s a terrible language, isn’t it?”

“The worst,” Hyunjin says, rolling his eyes. “If so many Stays didn’t speak English, I would just pretend it didn’t exist.”

Jisung laughs. He takes Hyunjin’s hand in his with little resistance and starts writing something on his palm. Hyunjin squirms a little, the tip of the pen tickling his skin.

“You wanna know how I learned English so quickly?” Jisung lifts his head up to meet Hyunjin’s inquisitive stare. “I dated someone who spoke it,” he croons, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Now, it’s Hyunjin’s turn to laugh. “I don’t think that’s an option for me.”

Jisung shrugs, bringing his attention back to Hyunjin’s palm. “I’m sure there are plenty of Stays who would take you up on the offer if you asked.”

“Hilarious,” Hyunjin says dryly.

Jisung chortles again, still staring intensely at whatever he’s drawing on Hyunjin’s hand. “No, you wanna know the real secret to learning any language quickly?” Finally, he pulls his pen away with a flourish, then taps Hyunjin’s palm with his finger. “You learn the dirty words first.”

Hyunjin squints at the ink on his hand. After all that fuss, Jisung has written — in cute, bubbly letters — an English word that he doesn’t even recognize. “What does that say?”

“Cock,” Jisung translates cheerfully.

Hyunjin’s face heats up instantly. “Jisung!” he shrieks, furiously rubbing his palms together in an attempt to wipe the word off his skin. When he separates them, both palms are smudged with ink. Jisung’s handiwork is still visible.

“Ugh,” Hyunjin says dejectedly. He glares at Jisung, who is practically rolling on the floor in laughter. “How do you even know that word?”

Jisung sits up, chest still crumpled in amusement. He props himself up on his elbows, knees swaying lazily in the air. “I’m telling you,” he says when he finally catches his breath. “I had a girlfriend who spoke English.

Hyunjin stares at Jisung. He’d delivered the sentence with deadpan seriousness, but Hyunjin still refuses to believe him. Because if Jisung had learned a word like that from his girlfriend—

“You’re lying,” Hyunjin says, feeling his face flush warm at the implications of that thought.

Jisung’s lips curl into a sleazy smile. “Am I?” He pushes himself up so that he’s eye-level with Hyunjin and uncaps the pen again. “I know other words too, you know.”

He grabs Hyunjin’s hand again — and Hyunjin, for some reason, lets him. “There’s ‘ _fuck_ ,’” he says slowly tracing out four letters on the back of Hyunjin’s hand. “Hm, ‘ _cum_ ’ is a good one… And ‘ _suck_ …’”

Hyunjin doesn’t understand any of the words being written on his hand, but he feels mortified anyway, likely because of the salacious tone Jisung’s voice has suddenly taken.

“You’re making these up,” Hyunjin says, still dubious that Jisung’s knowledge of English extends this far.

Jisung frowns. “Wow, what does it take to convince you? Using them in a sentence?”

He says something in English, his voice low and raspy. The only words Hyunjin understands are “I want,” but it still sends a slice of heat down his body. “What does that mean?” he asks.

Jisung blinks, suddenly embarrassed by the situation he’s found himself in. “Uh,” he says, blushing as he glances down at his lap. “You know what? You’re busy. I’ll let you keep studying—”

Before Jisung can reach his hand out to return the pen, Hyunjin grabs him by the wrist. “What does it mean?” he repeats, too curious now to let the question go.

Jisung’s face is bright red now. “I… I said… ‘I want to suck your cock.’”

Hyunjin’s breath catches in his throat. “Oh,” he says, voice sounding impossibly small. He swallows thickly and asks, “How do you say it again?”

Jisung licks his lips, hesitant, before saying the sentence in English one more time.

Slowly, Hyunjin repeats the words. His delivery is rough and halting — but based on the sharp inhale Jisung takes, the meaning is clear.

“Again,” Jisung urges him, leaning in a little. “I mean — uh, your pronunciation was off. Put a little more emphasis on the consonants.”

Hyunjin leans in too, letting his lips come so close to Jisung’s ear that his breath ghosts his skin. He repeats the sentence, slower this time.

“Perfect,” Jisung says, his voice as thick as fog. “Your English. It’s… It’s really good.”

“Yeah?” Hyunjin pulls away from Jisung’s ear and watches with slight amusement as his chest rises and falls, breaths escaping from his lips in heavy pants. “What other sentences do you know?”

Jisung says something in English, sounding even more embarrassed than he had before.

Hyunjin asks, "What does that mean?"

“Er… ‘can I kiss you?’” translates Jisung, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

Hyunjin bursts out laughing. “And you were more embarrassed asking that than saying you wanted to blow me?”

Jisung makes a face. “You know what? I take it back.”

Hyunjin feels his own smile curl into something sharp and sly. “Too late.” He pulls Jisung forward by the front of his shirt. “I’m already answering ‘yes,’” he says, drawling out the last word in English.

Jisung’s lips twitch into a small grin of his own as he leans forward eagerly. His kisses feel just how Hyunjin remembers them: sweet and soft and just a little bit sloppy. Like kissing a puppy. 

Suddenly, Jisung parts his lips and lets his tongue slip past, licking his way into Hyunjin’s mouth. Hyunjin lets out a surprised moan, heat curling in his stomach as Jisung’s hand trails down his cheek before settling on his waist. Okay, so maybe _not_ like kissing a puppy.

“I meant it, by the way,” Hyunjin says when he pulls away. “I do want to… you know.”

A flicker of realization passes over Jisung’s face. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand,” he says, feigning a confused smile. “You want to what now?”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes. “I know you want me to say that sentence in English again, but I’m not going to.” He pries the pen from Jisung’s hand and starts writing something on his collarbone. “I want to taste you. I want you to cum down my throat. I want you to fuck my face until I cry.”

He adds the finishing stroke to the characters he’d drawn on Jisung’s neck: cock, but in hangul. Hyunjin meets Jisung’s eyes again, smirking. “English is such an inexpressive language, don’t you think?”

Jisung makes a needy noise in his throat, something between a whine and a growl, and pulls Hyunjin in for another kiss. “Wanna learn how to say those in English?” Jisung mumbles against his lips, the weight of his fingers burning something terrible on Hyunjin’s waist when he slips his hand past the hem of his shirt.

“No,” Hyunjin replies with a saccharine smile. “I’d rather just do it.”

The sensation of Jisung’s skin brushing against his own is more familiar than it is foreign, but it’s been a while since last time, and he can’t quite remember the feeling of his lips stretched around Jisung’s dick, spit dribbling down his chin as Jisung murmurs breathy praises. Unfortunate.

Jisung all but scrambles onto the couch, though not before helping Hyunjin up as well. He lies down longways, fingers tucked in his belt loops as he parts his legs slightly. “Well, come on then, baby,” he cooes with an irritating grin.

Hyunjin smacks his knee and says, “One more word and I’m leaving.” He’s not quite sure how to admit that he finds Jisung sexy as hell when he’s cocky like this, even if he’s playing that arrogance more for laughs than actual leverage.

He settles on his stomach, bracketed between Jisung’s legs, and starts playing with his pants zipper. “Yah, don’t be such a tease,” Jisung says, no real malice to his voice as he cards his fingers through Hyunjin’s hair. When he reaches the end, he takes a few of Hyunjin’s blonde strands between his fingers and tugs gently, like he’s ringing a bell. “Mm, so pretty,” he purrs in English, the compliment going straight to Hyunjin’s dick.

“Tell me more,” Hyunjin says. He fumbles with Jisung’s jeans for a moment before they finally come off, revealing a pair of red and white Christmas-themed boxers that would feel ridiculous in any other context. (Though to be fair, they feel pretty ridiculous in this context too.)

“You’re always pretty, I think,” Jisung continues in English, running a hand through his long hair as Hyunjin mouths messily at his clothed cock. “But you look prettiest like this, when you’re—” He says a few phrases that Hyunjin doesn’t recognize, though he picks up some of the new vocabulary words Jisung had just inked on his skin. Either way, it’s not like he needs to understand any of it; Jisung’s voice, hot and husky, tells him everything.

Hyunjin, his tongue still lapping up and down the length of Jisung’s dick through his boxers, lets out a quiet whine, the vibrations reverberating between their bodies. Suddenly, Jisung tightens his grip in Hyunjin’s hair and tugs, forcing him to tilt his head up. “Hey,” he says sharply, switching back to Korean. “What did I say about being a fucking tease?”

The weight of his words forces another helpless keen out of Hyunjin. “Sorry,” he says, heart thumping in his chest.

It’s rare to see Jisung like this. He’s usually so supportive, so afraid to offend, and that’s part of the reason Hyunjin is fond of him. Almost equally, though, Hyunjin likes it when Jisung breaks him down, unraveling him with nothing but his words; it makes the relief he feels when Jisung pieces him back together taste so much sweeter.

Jisung releases his grip on Hyunjin’s hair and lets his hand trail down the side of his cheek. Hyunjin shivers, instinctively leaning into the touch. Jisung grabs his chin with one swift motion and jerks it slightly to the side — not violently, but with enough conviction to make Hyunjin whimper. “You’re such a slut. I should write that on your forehead so that the whole dorm knows. S-L-U-T.” He spells the word out in English and punctuates each letter with a subtle flick of his wrist, making Hyunjin’s head shake from side to side. “But you’d probably like that, huh? Would probably get off on having everyone know what a little whore for my dick you are?”

Hyunjin opens his mouth to protest, tries to say _No, I wouldn’t_ , but all that comes out is a mumbled, “N-N-No...”

Jisung lets out a harsh laugh. “See? You can’t even speak. Is that really the only thing your mouth is good for? Choking on my dick?”

Hyunjin doesn’t even try to object this time, just makes a needy little noise as he tries to pull Jisung’s boxers off. Mercifully, Jisung cooperates. His dick slaps lewdly against his stomach, already hard from Hyunjin’s teasing. Jisung exhales sharply as Hyunjin spits on his cock and starts mouthing wetly at the base. “What are you putting on such a show for?” Jisung asks, his voice thick with want. “No one’s watching. Or are you just imagining that someone is?”

Hyunjin gives a low hum of affirmation before wrapping his lips around Jisung’s dick, sucking softly as he bobs his head.

“Who do you want to watch you so bad? One of the other members?” Jisung asks, his hand finding its way back to Hyunjin’s hair. “Who? Chan or Felix, maybe? You’d like it if they called you pretty things in English as you sucked me off, wouldn’t you? Patting your head, calling you _baby_ or _good boy_ as you choke on my dick?”

Jisung starts pushing down on the back of Hyunjin’s head, forcing him to take more of his cock. Hyunjin moans, inhaling harshly through his nostrils as he drools down his chin. “Maybe you want them to call you nasty names instead. They probably know more words than I do,” Jisung says, and Hyunjin can tell from his labored breaths that he’s close. “Or maybe you don’t even care what they call you. Maybe you just want someone watching, huh? Someone to see what a little slut you are.”

Suddenly, Jisung’s hips stutter. His fingers curl around Hyunjin’s hair and he holds him there, keeping his mouth on his cock as he cums. Hyunjin feels his eyes fluttering closed, feels Jisung’s grip relax before he lets his hand fall limp on the couch, boneless.

Hyunjin pulls himself off of Jisung’s softening dick and wipes the spit from his face with his sleeve. As he sits up on the couch, his head starts swimming.

“Hey,” Jisung says, stretching his arms out toward Hyunjin. “Come ‘ere.”

Wordlessly, Hyunjin nestles himself between Jisung’s arms and buries his face in the crook of his neck. Despite their height difference, Hyunjin can’t help but feel impossibly small after bottoming for Jisung. He lets out a satisfied sigh when Jisung starts stroking the back of his head, the touch warm and comforting.

“You did well,” says Jisung, his voice impossibly soothing after the things he’d just said to Hyunjin. “You want a blanket? Some water?”

Hyunjin shakes his head, then yawns. “‘m sleepy,” he says, lids growing heavier by the second. “Just sit with me for a bit.”

Jisung laughs softly. “Okay, but I’m still half-naked,” he says, amused. “I’m not sure how you’re gonna explain this one to the other members if they walk in.”

Hyunjin gives a dismissive hum. “An English lesson gone terribly, terribly wrong.”


	2. tease me

Fuck Han Jisung. Fuck Han Jisung. Fuck Han Ji—

Seungmin taps the end of his highlighter against Hyunjin’s textbook, a sweet but stern smile on his lips. “You have three minutes left,” he reminds him. “Don’t spend too much time on one question, okay?”

Hyunjin returns the smile with a weak quirk of his lips. Given the fact that he’s been going through flashcards, practice tests, and spelling drills with Seungmin for two grueling hours now, he’s surprised that he even has any energy left to control his facial muscles.

Once again: fuck Han Jisung.

“What’s that on your palm?” Seungmin had asked a few days ago, taking Hyunjin’s hand in his.

Hyunjin had been sitting on his bed, half-dozing off as he watched a drama on his phone — so, he guesses it’s also his fault for letting his guard down.

“Um,” Hyunjin says dumbly, yanking his hand away from Seungmin. “It’s nothing. Just a game Jisung and I were playing.” He almost considers this just deserts for stupidly assuming the ink would wash off after one five-minute shower, but still. Fuck Han Jisung.

Seungmin offers him a confused smile. “A game that requires you to write dirty words in English on your hands?”

Shit. He forgets sometimes how much English Seungmin knows. Though, the fact that he recognized those words so quickly…

Hyunjin feels his face growing hot. “Yup. It’s a game to… learn English. Yeah. Jisung’s been helping me out with my English recently.”

Somehow, Seungmin looks more confused by this statement than by the words inked on Hyunjin’s hand. “Let me get this straight,” he says slowly. “You needed help with learning English so you went to… Jisung? And not the two native speakers in our group?"

He furrows his brow, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Not even me?”

Oh, geez. Now Hyunjin feels both mortified  _ and  _ like a huge asshole.

“That’s not what I was thinking at all,” he splutters quickly, taking Seungmin’s hands in his. “It’s just, we already spend so much time together, you know? And I didn’t want to bother you any more than I already do.” He fidgets with Seungmin’s hands, bending his fingers back and forth and drawing patterns against his palm.

“It wouldn’t be a bother,” Seungmin says, still looking a little wounded. “Honestly, I’m just insulted that you thought Jisung would have a more effective teaching plan than me.”

He wriggles his hand away and turns Hyunjin’s palm skyward. “I mean, I don’t even understand what a game like this is supposed to teach you,” he muses aloud, tracing the ‘S’ in ‘suck.’ The touch sends a shiver ripping through Hyunjin’s body. He squirms, absentmindedly rubbing his ankles together.

In a panic, Hyunjin blurts out, “If you want, you can start teaching me English instead.”

Seungmin’s finger freezes, and a sunny smile spreads across his face. “Great!” he chirps. “We’ll start on Thursday.”

That, Hyunjin thinks, should’ve been the first red flag.

“And… time’s up,” Seungmin announces. “Let’s check your answers, okay?”

Hyunjin winces as Seungmin pulls the textbook to his side of the table. He already has a pretty good idea of how he scored on that practice test — and judging by the slow downturn of Seungmin’s lips, his prediction is spot on.

“Hyung,” he says, the dissatisfaction in his voice nearly palpable. “You answered all these questions with ‘C.’”

Hyunjin shrugs, slumping on top of the table. “I mean, it’s guaranteed to be correct 25% of the time, right?”

Seungmin exhales slowly, looking somewhat like a deflated balloon. “I don’t understand. I’m using all the best tutoring techniques: experiential learning, positive reinforcement—”

“Positive reinforcement?” Hyunjin blurts out, half-guffawing. “You mean the little stickers you give me every time I answer a question correctly? Is that supposed to  _ reinforce  _ good behavior?”

Seungmin frowns and pulls something out of a manila folder. “You know what? You’re getting a demerit for backtalk.”

“That doesn’t mean  _ anything _ !” Hyunjin sputters. He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I’m just saying: it’s not really positive reinforcement if I don’t want the reward you’re giving me, is it?”

Seungmin stares hard at Hyunjin, considering him carefully. Then, he nods, his serene smile returning. “Okay, I think I understand now. Thank you for your feedback.” As if the whole debacle hadn’t even happened, he flips the textbook back a few pages and turns it toward Hyunjin. “Let’s review verb conjugation, okay?”

Hyunjin blinks, startled by how easily Seungmin’s demeanor had changed. He’s cooking something up in that busy brain of his, Hyunjin can just tell — but, well, he doesn’t really have the energy to speculate about it for now.

“So, if the present simple tense is ‘I swim,’ what’s the future perfect continuous tense?” asks Seungmin.

Hyunjin presses his lips together, thinking. “It’s… ‘I will have been swimming,’ right?”

Seungmin smiles brightly. “Yes, that’s right! Good job.”

He fully expects Seungmin to slap a little sticker on Hyunjin’s textbook, like he has been for the last two hours whenever Hyunjin got a question right — but instead, he slides out of his seat and drops to his knees. “Um, Seungmin?” Hyunjin says, unable to keep the bewilderment from his voice. “Are we… moving to the floor now?”

Seungmin shakes his head, expression unwavering. "Nope, just me," he replies. "You keep doing what you're doing. Mind scooting back a little?"

Still disoriented by Seungmin's strange behavior, Hyunjin just obeys and pushes his chair backward. Without a table in the way, Seungmin wriggles between Hyunjin's legs and starts fiddling with his pants zipper. Hyunjin makes an undignified gurgling noise in the back of his throat. "Wh — Seungmin! What're you—"

"I can stop if you'd like," Seungmin interjects, "or I can ask you the next question."

Hyunjin goes silent, all ability to form coherent sentences leaving his muscle memory for a few seconds.

"I need an answer, hyung," Seungmin says, the stern edge to his voice stopping Hyunjin's next breath before it can leave his lungs.

"I'm ready for the next question,” Hyunjin replies faintly.

Seungmin's smile, which had seemed so chaste only a moment ago, curls into a smug smirk. "Thought so." He continues rubbing his thumb against Hyunjin's zipper, forehead creasing as he brainstorms for a relevant question. "Let's see... what tense is the sentence 'I had read that last summer?'"

"Past," Hyunjin blurts out, eager to see Seungmin's next move.

Seungmin clicks his tongue in disappointment. "Close," he says, finally pulling Hyunjin's zipper all the way down. "It's a little more than that though." Seungmin's fingers are ghosting against Hyunjin’s dick through his pants, just shy of the relief he needs, and it's sending his head into a spiral.

"Ah - um," he stammers, his grip on the chair cushion going tight. "Past... past perfect?"

Seungmin gives a satisfied hum before tugging down on Hyunjin's belt loops. "Good job," he says, watching with amusement as Hyunjin eagerly heeds Seungmin’s signal to shed himself of his pants and boxers. "Looks like you’ve been paying attention after all, huh?"

"Something like that," Hyunjin replies breathily.

"Okay, next question," says Seungmin. "Can you translate 'It's snowing' to future simple tense?"

Oh, this was easy. "It will snow," he answers swiftly, the corners of his lips tugging into the beginnings of a cocky grin.

Seungmin spits into his hands and wraps them around Hyunjin’s dick, eliciting a surprised gasp. Both Jisung and Seungmin are so, so skilled at reducing Hyunjin into a boneless mess — but Jisung always gets adorably embarrassed before flipping the switch. Only Seungmin can completely and unapologetically undo Hyunjin, and he’ll do it with a composed smile on his lips the entire time, not a hair on his head out of place as he milks out orgasm after orgasm.

Seungmin says, almost as an aside, "Keep it up and you'll be more fluent at English than me one day.”

Considering how easily Hyunjin's brain short circuits every time Seungmin flicks his wrist, the slide just smooth enough to feel torturously good, he doubts he'll even be able to speak at  _ all  _ for a few hours.

"Okay, here's a more difficult question," says Seungmin. "What is the conditional continuous tense of 'I'm sleeping?'"

At this, Hyunjin blinks. He vaguely remembers learning about the conditional tense, but god, the sensation of Seungmin's calloused hands on his dick is preventing any useful memory retrieval from taking place.

"I... I don't remember," Hyunjin says.

Instantly, Seungmin takes his hands away from Hyunjin's cock, already half-hard. He whines at the loss and reaches to replace Seungmin's touch with his own -- but before he can, Seungmin is grabbing him by both his wrists, his expression sharp and steely. "Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asks, all remnants of praise gone from his voice. "You're not getting off until you answer that question correctly."

Hyunjin takes it all back: fuck Kim Seungmin, actually.

He grits out, "I don't know what conditional continuous tense is, you brat.”

"Yes, you do. I'll give you an example," says Seungmin, still holding Hyunjin's wrists back. "'If you had gotten that question right the first time, you would be coming right now.' Did that clear it up at all?"

Hyunjin hates to admit it, but the addition  _ did  _ jog his memory. God, was Seungmin having actual success in teaching him English right now? "Conditional continuous is 'I would be sleeping,'" Hyunjin grumbles. "That good enough for you, asshole?"

"Perfect, actually," Seungmin says before licking a long stripe up Hyunjin's dick.

Hyunjin makes a strangled noise, mouth falling open helplessly as he watches Seungmin. Even when he's spitting and slobbering over Hyunjin's dick, drool rolling down his chin from the effort, he looks impossibly calm and collected. Hyunjin has never felt in control around him — and he’s never wanted to, really. "G-God, Seungmin," Hyunjin groans, reflexively reaching out to card his fingers through Seungmin's hair.

The moment his hand makes contact, Seungmin pulls away from Hyunjin's dick, a thin line of spit trailing from his bottom lip. "I don't think you've earned the right to touch me yet," he says.

It takes every ounce of willpower in Hyunjin’s body not to throw his hands up in the air from frustration. "You're  _ literally  _ sucking my dick right now."

Seungmin hums in consideration. "You know what? You've been especially good today. If you answer this next question right..." He pauses to tap his lips with a finger. "You can fuck my face. Sound good?"

Hyunjin's vocal cords try to form the syllables to say yes, but all that comes out is a quiet croak. He nods instead.

"How about," Seungmin says, a devious glint to his eyes, “you beg me, in English, to let you cum?"

Hyunjin feels his face flush hot. He's not above pleading his members for the things he wants, but there's something strangely demeaning about doing so with someone younger than him — and in English, no less.

"I wouldn't know the words," he protests.

"Liar," Seungmin shoots back instantly. "I'm not an idiot. Do you really think I can't put two and two together and figure out what kind of 'English lessons' Jisung has been giving you?"

At this rate, Hyunjin swears he's going to be stained a permanent shade of red. "I’m not doing that. It’s embarrassing."

Seungmin blinks, then shrugs. "Fine with me," he says, starting to get up from his knees. "That just means I'm not helping you cum."

"Wait, wait, wait," Hyunjin says, the stream of pleas sounding delirious even to his own ears. Seungmin freezes in place, waiting for Hyunjin to finish speaking. "Seungmin... can you please let me cum?" he asks in English.

The words feel awkward and unwieldy against his tongue, but Seungmin doesn't seem to mind. Hyunjin watches in fascination as Seungmin licks his lips, his breaths stuttering in his chest. "What else do you want me to do?" Seungmin replies in English, taking Hyunjin's dick in his hand and slowly stroking it.

"I want," Hyunjin says, his words slightly slurred as Seungmin runs his thumb along his slit. "I want you to suck my cock. And I want to... fuck your... mouth." The sentences come out haltingly as he tries to remember what words Jisung had written on his hand and — more importantly — the filthy way he'd delivered them.

"Please. I want it so much," Hyunjin begs when Seungmin continues jerking him off at a sinfully slow pace. "Please. Please please please."

Finally, Seungmin seems satisfied. "How pretty," he praises him in Korean. "Wouldn't be very nice of me to deny you after you worked so hard." He takes Hyunjin back in the wet heat of his mouth, then taps his thigh, as if to give him the go-ahead.

Hyunjin grabs a fistful of hair from the back of Seungmin's head, just tightly enough to hold him in place, and starts thrusting up shallowly. "F-Fuck," Hyunjin says, curling his other hand in Seungmin's hair as he increases his pace. He likes it when Seungmin fights back, finds half the fun in the push and pull — but he likes Seungmin when he's soft and pliant like this too, just a body for Hyunjin to abuse.

Hyunjin moans as he feels a familiar heat curl in his stomach. "Seungmin, I'm about to—"

He doesn't even need to finish the sentence before Seungmin is pulling his mouth off of Hyunjin's dick with a lewd pop. Hyunjin lets out a harsh breath as he jerks himself off to completion, resting the head of his cock against Seungmin's plush bottom lip. Seungmin's eyes flutter closed as Hyunjin leaves spurts of cum against his cheek, his chin, the soft curve of his cupid's bow.

Almost immediately, Hyunjin is horrified.

"Oh my god," he half-stutters, scrambling to grab a nearby box of tissues from the table. "I am so sorry."

Seungmin tilts his head inquisitively as he takes a handful of tissues from Hyunjin. "Sorry for what?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused. "This was the plan for today's lesson, wasn't it?"

Hyunjin stares at him. " _ This _ was the plan? For you to suck me off while reviewing conjugations?"

"Well, this was actually one of the last options I had in mind," Seungmin admits, crumpling the tissues in his fist once he finishes wiping his face clean. "I really assumed we would make more progress with the stickers."

Hyunjin laughs. He grabs the abandoned sticker sheet from the table, peels off a yellow ladybug, and sticks it on Seungmin's forehead.

Seungmin wrinkles his nose, eyes crossing as he attempts to look up at the sticker. "What's that for?”

Hyunjin offers him a noncommittal hum. "Not sure. Just for being a cutie, I guess."

For once, Seungmin is the first to blush. He shakes his head, as if this will help him shed the pink tint from his cheeks. "We still have to go over that awful practice test from earlier, you know."

"Or," Hyunjin proposes with an impish grin, "we could switch places."

He uses one hand to cradle Seungmin’s chin and trails the other down his chest, stopping when he reaches the top button of his jeans. "I could always quiz you on a thing or two instead."

Seungmin sighs, defeated. He slips his hands under Hyunjin's shirt and skirts them up the sides of his stomach. "You're a terrible student."

Hyunjin shrugs, still smiling. "Maybe I'll be a better teacher," he suggests. "Let's find out."

**Author's Note:**

> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/malbokdiet) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.qa/malbokdiet)


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